


What's In A Number

by Aelys_Althea



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: AFTG Big Bang 2020, Accidental number, Andrew being protective in his own weird way, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Except it's phone calls, Gen, M/M, Neil's past identities, Pre-Canon, Strangers to acquaintances to something, mostly off-screen, text fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:28:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26705248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aelys_Althea/pseuds/Aelys_Althea
Summary: Andrew's life is a trial of monotony and ticked boxes. When a stranger calls and keeps calling, it's still monotonous and boxes are still ticked.But there's another box. A different box. It's that box and the stranger with his mystery number that makes all the difference.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 55
Kudos: 261
Collections: AFTG Big Bang, AFTG Big Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, once more, to the wonderful mods of the AFTG BB fest! I got the chance to participate not once but twice and I'm SO HAPPY about that! It's been wonderful writing and sharing, and I had a blast.  
> Thank you! I hope you enjoy the story!

Juvie was a hellhole. A fucking hellhole, but better than what came before it. In many ways, it was better than what came after, too.

His brother. His _twin_ brother, and his brother's mother. His goddamn family, even if he'd never consider them as such simply for the blood that flowed through their veins. It was all a mess, and he couldn't fix every goddamn part of it. Just the doable pieces. Just the necessary.

A drive. A crash. One problem solved.

Lying abed, injuries still fresh and stinging, Andrew listened to the voices in the room beneath his own. He didn't want to hear the sounds. He didn't want to listen to the uncle who was an uncle in only name, his aunt who was no better, the warble of his brother's voice. Snorting at the foolishness of the lot of them – such fools, so blinded by righteousness – he closed his eyes and retreated from the world.

Not that the world ever allowed for such a withdrawal. Of course it didn't. Life would never be so easy.

* * *

_"I'm out the front. At the corner. There's – no, I can't see them, but I'll leave in two minutes. Where are you?"_

"What?"

_"… what?"_

"Who the fuck are you?"

_"Who… who is this?"_

"I asked you first. Why're you calling me?"

_"How'd you get this number?"_

"It's my number. How did you get it?"

_"This is – no, that's not –"_

"Who are you?"

_"Where is she?"_

"What?"

_"This has to be her number. I didn't make a mistake, it was the one she gave me, so it has to be hers."_

"What the fuck are you -?"

_"Who are you? Where did you get the phone? What – where is she?"_

"Look, fucktard, I'm not in the mood for a prank call or a fucking mistake some kid makes typing in a fucking phone number –"

_"It wasn't a mistake. It wasn't."_

"Well, it clearly is. I've had this phone for months. Sort your shit out."

_"…"_

"…"

_"Shit."_

"Yeah, I'll say."

_"You're –"_

"Not whoever 'she' is."

_"Shit. Fuck."_

"Pipe down with the swear words, Junior. How old are you, even?"

_"Don't you fucking call me that. Don't you dare."_

"You're –"

_"What the fuck… Goddammit."_

_BEEP-BEEP-BEEP_

* * *

Andrew stared at the screen of his flip phone until the light faded. The strain in the kid's voice, whoever he'd been, still rung in his ears, an echo of those in the living room below. Funny, that the distress seemed to mimic rather than contrast, despite the softness of those voices.

Snorting again, Andrew tossed his phone onto the quilt beside him. He draped his arm over his eyes, the scratch of the bandages he kept permanently wrapped around his forearms felt through his sleeve. Shunting the call, the voices, the fuzzy sunlight creeping through the curtains from his thought and consideration, he closed his eyes and ducked away from the mess that he'd helped create.

The world was a fucked up place, after all. Though dreams were rarely any better, Andrew liked the odds of unconsciousness better.


	2. Chapter 2

His cousin. A cousin he'd never met, even if his aunt and uncle's very presence suggested he existed.

Andrew stared at him flatly, eyed him with assessment for the threat he could be, before disregarding the possibility. He flipped his hand at the young man with his wide, gentle gaze as he turned and left the room.

Not today. Not any day. Andrew didn't have the time nor the care for the weak-willed. For those that caved before accusing words or folded like a deck of cards in the face of a raised fist. His cousin? It was possible he had a spine beneath his gentle exterior, but Andrew didn't think it likely. Not given who had raised him. It's likely he'd never had the chance to grow one in the first place.

Parents, Andrew had realised with the collation of solid evidence, were very rarely good. One in a million, and even then the good was often smeared by the shit it was cradled in, by the hand life had dealt them.

Andrew left his cousin, his brother, his aunt and uncle. There was no point in wasting time on soft words and empty platitudes. If he chose to talk, it would at least be with the absence of unnecessary bullshit. Was that so much to ask?

* * *

_"Where are you? Why are you late?"_

"You've got the wrong number. Again."

_"…"_

"…"

_"Goddammit."_

"I doubt God has anything to do with it, actually."

_"'Course he doesn't. He doesn't do jack shit any of the rest of the time."_

"How profound."

_"Fuck off."_

"Seriously, how old are you?"

_"Don't pretend you haven't heard kids say worse. And I'm not that young."_

"Right. Sure."

_"Fuck off."_

"You're the one who called me."

_"I… Hm."_

"Again, very profound. Where is she?"

_"What? Who?"_

"The 'she' that I'm assuming you meant to call. You need to fix the number she's saved under. Prank calling is rude."

_"It's not a prank call. And besides, I doubt you give a shit about rudeness."_

"Don't make assumptions, kid."

_"Don't call me kid. You hardly sound any older than me."_

"Wisdom of mind."

_"Bullshit."_

"Where is she?"

_"None of your fucking business."_

"Fine."

_"…"_

"…"

_"She should be back."_

"Who?"

_"My mom. She should be back by now."_

"Boo-hoo."

_"Fuck you. You were the one who asked."_

"And you're the one who told me."

_"Why'd you even ask, then?"_

"Why are we still talking?"

_"I…"_

"Yes?"

_"You haven't hung up on me either."_

"I'm bored. What's your excuse?"

_"I'm…"_

"Lonely."

_"No."_

"Scared."

_"… I'm… not scared."_

"That sounds like a lie."

_"I don't care what it sounds like."_

"Is your mom missing?"

_"What?"_

"Why should she be back by now? You're worried."

_"I'm not,"_

"That's a lie too."

_"… She… she was at work."_

"And? People work."

_"She's late."_

"Wow."

_"By three hours."_

"Hm."

_"I'm…"_

"Worried."

_"Is that a crime? And no, actually, I'm not. I'm concerned."_

"Same shit, different name."

_"There was a shoot-out down the road,"_

"Catastrophising, are we?"

_"It happens."_

"Not every bystander is a high-risk case, kid."

_"It happens to some people more often than others."_

"…"

_"Why am I even telling you this?"_

"Good question."

_"Go to hell."_

"I'm already there."

_"Yeah, me too."_

"…"

_"…"_

"Call her."

_"That's what I was doing."_

"Call her work."

_"That was my second plan."_

"You're still speaking to me, though."

_"Yeah, because – yeah. I shouldn't call her work. She'd be pissed."_

"Are you thinking out loud?"

_"Yes. No. I don't know."_

"You managed to cover all three options, there. Congratulations."

_"Alright, asshole, I'll leave you alone."_

"Finally. Go and call your mom's work."

_"…"_

"Let me know if she got shot next time."

_"…"_

"…"

_"Whatever."_

_BEEP-BEEP-BEEP_

* * *

Andrew stared at the number on his screen. Unknown Caller. He snapped the phone shut with a flick of his thumb, shoving it into his pocket.

A short conversation. Sharp. To the point. None of that useless drivel wasting time and space hanging around it. It was meaningless, as pointless as the rest of them, but it was a long sight better than the exchange he'd had with his kindly cousin and his silver-tongued uncle.

Andrew didn't care about the kid on the other end of the line, but it was vaguely interesting. It killed time. And, after all, what was life really about but to stuff the hours full of passing, pitiful interests till he died? It wasn't like he wanted another call, not like he cared, but…

Andrew suspected he'd probably pick up the call if Unknown Caller rang again. Filling the hours. That was it.


	3. Chapter 3

Living with the cousin was… different. Very different.

Nicky. He had a name and Andrew bothered to remember it. He didn't care about family, couldn't care less about blood ties and surnames, but Nicky was worth remembering. Not worth speaking to though, nor returning a smile, nor… any of the rest of it.

"I'll do my best, but for now we'll just be renting. You can have you own room if you'd like."

"Is there anything you want? Anything you need? Just let me know."

"How's school going? Have you… do you feel like you've, you know, settled in here?"

"You could try and make an effort. Try and be less of an asshole."

That last was from his brother. From Aaron. His brother who still sometimes didn't feel like a brother at all but that had still become a Someone. Aaron didn't act like any kind of brother Andrew had ever seen, and he sometimes so blatantly expressed his desire to be anything but that Andrew sparingly considered following his line of thought and cutting him off entirely.

Sparingly only, though. Andrew wasn't like her. Not like Aaron's mother. Such cheap promises and cheaper ties weren't his style. He'd made a promise with Aaron, a silent promise through the door as Aaron had melted and wept through withdrawals. That meant something. What Aaron was… what Nicky was…

That didn't mean that Andrew had to talk to either of them. It didn't mean he had to smile when Nicky flashed him an overly bright grin, nor when Aaron adopted a less overt expression of friendliness on their first day at the new school. It didn't mean he had to pander to the whims of his family, his teachers, his classmates, anymore than he ever had.

Things were changing, and Andrew kept pace with it. He didn't bend, didn't bow to the shudders of the turning world and the people in it, but he strode forward. Life was still boring – incessantly boring – but he would make do. He took his moments of vague interest where he could.

Nicky and the house.

Aaron and his silent resentment.

And Unknown Caller.

* * *

_"Hello?"_

"Did she get shot?"

_"What?"_

"Your mom."

_"Oh."_

"Well?"

_"No."_

"So you overreacted."

_"Yeah."_

"Wasn't a question."

_"Shut up."_

"In a bad mood again?"

_"…"_

"Why'd you call?"

_"No reason."_

"You don't have anyone else to call."

_"I… no."_

"Also wasn't a question."

_"Whatever. No, I don't have anyone else to call, she's late again, and I don't like being in this apartment by myself."_

"So go outside."

_"That… wouldn't be a good idea."_

"Then don't."

_"You're not exactly providing a lot of options."_

"Is that what you were hoping for? Suggestions? Is that why you called?"

_"I… no."_

"Why'd you call?"

_"Why'd you answer?"_

"I'm bored. Why'd you call?"

_"That's a shit answer."_

"So? It's better than yours."

_"I didn't give you one."_

"Exactly."

_"… ha. You're such an asshole."_

"So then why'd you call me?"

_"Maybe I'm an asshole too."_

"I already knew that."

_"Are you making assumptions about me?"_

"Yes."

_"Really?"_

"You're a kid who's a little shit. You don't have any friends –"

_"Hey -"_

"- and your mom is a bitch who leaves you at home while she heads off to a potentially dangerous workplace without giving you an accurate time for her return. She either doesn't know or doesn't care that you freak out when she leaves, and she seems to have a problem with soothing your resulting psychological aches and pains."

_"Soothing my – what?"_

"You said she'd be pissed if you called."

_"Oh. Right."_

"In summary? I'm more than capable of making accurate assumptions."

_"You're an asshole."_

"We've established that."

 _"You're an asshole_ and _you have way too much free time on your hands. You take too little active interest in your own life, and it makes you incredibly bored. You don't want that time but you're not doing anything to fix the situation, so anything that forces itself into your attention and looks like it might provide a distraction you grab with both hands like a cat on a mouse. Pretty obvious by how fast you picked up the phone."_

"…"

_"That, and you probably have a shit home life, probably hate your family, and probably skip school more often than you attend."_

"That's a whole lot of assumptions you've just made with very little basis."

_"I've met people like you before."_

"Unlikely."

_"You think you're special?"_

"No. Not in the least."

_"Then how would you know? Or is it just that you hope not? Is your life really that bad?"_

"…"

_"Maybe you're not such an asshole if you don't want anyone else to be in an equally shit position."_

"You're assuming again."

_"Isn't that what game we were playing?"_

"Who said we were playing a game?"

_"Nobody. But you said…"_

"…"

_"… um…"_

"What?"

_"Mom? Is that -? I've gotta go."_

"Is it her?"

_"I don't know."_

"Don't get killed by gangsters waiting outside your door."

_"What, are you worried?"_

"Not in the least. You had me pinned. I'm bored. You're only slightly more interesting than staring at my ceiling."

_"Right, well – okay. Whatever."_

"…"

_BEEP-BEEP-BEEP_

* * *

The phone creaked slightly in his hand and it was only then that Andrew realised how tightly he was squeezing it. Squeezing the fuck out of it, really, and toeing the dangerous line of crumpling it entirely.

The kid on the other end of the line. He was… assuming. And maybe assuming a little more accurately than Andrew cared to admit.

What he would admit was that he didn't enjoy their calls – of course he didn't – but that he didn't hate them quite as much as he hated every other tedious aspect of life. Waking. Breaking fast. School and people and mindless bus trips. Dinner and playing a silent witness to Nicky's overly exuberant chatter as he attempted to fill the room. Keeping watch of but not looking at Aaron as his brother arduously struggled to climb out of the ditch he'd fallen into with his mother's death.

Boring. Listless. An endless road to nowhere and nothing.

It was vastly different only years before. Vastly different too to the nervous dread oozing from the kid on the other end of the phone line. The thin strain of his voice, the sharp jitteriness, the fear yet steel that strengthened his tone when he'd called for whoever had approached his door.

Andrew wasn't interested, didn't really care if the boy lived or died, if he made another call. But there was something there, some underlying sense of commonality. He hated it, but that hate was fractionally less than everything else he hated in his life.

Andrew didn't want or even expect another call, but he wouldn't lie to himself and pretend he wouldn't pick it up should it come through.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the lovely wy-mackk for your hard work in this fest! I'm so stoked with your art, you have no idea!  
> If anyone's curious, please head on over [here](https://wy-mackk.tumblr.com/post/630699378494062592/my-piece-for-aftgbigbang-a-scene-from) to check it out!

Life evolved slowly. It changed in fits and bursts, unending and unremarkable, until on a single day Andrew glance over his shoulder into the winding path of the past and realise how much had changed. How little he'd shifted but how much had shifted around him.

Tilda was dead and her absence changed things.

Nicky existed and his presence changed even more.

A rented house, then a new house, setting up shop in Columbia on the outer rim of his new school's catchment area.

New house. New school. A new job, even, if only as a kitchenhand that paid a pittance. New and changed, but Andrew had barely noticed the evolution at all. It just… happened.

Changing, and yet dull. Dynamic, yet smoothly flowing without excitable hitches and catches. There was little surprise, could never be anything of interest –

And Andrew didn't expect there to be. But he made the most of what little presented itself. When his phone rang, Andrew always picked it up.

* * *

"You need to tell me your name."

_"What?"_

"I'm sick of seeing 'Unknown Caller' sitting in my incoming calls list."

_"Oh."_

"Well?"

_"You want my name?"_

"Less now than I did a moment ago. You're clearly either stupid, being obtuse, or suffering from some convenient short-term memory loss."

_"Could you maybe be less of a dick sometimes?"_

"No."

_"Why am I not surprised?"_

"Am I predictable to you? Boring you, perhaps? How sad for you."

_"Have you ever actually been in a good mood in your entire life?"_

"Of course not."

_"You're hilarious. Figures though, I guess. For a second I actually wondered how such a wet blanket had friends until I realised you didn't have any."_

"Has the small child gained a modicum of a backbone? Learned to speak the language of sarcasm? Congratulations."

_"If sarcasm is a language it's clearly innately understood by a particular subset of the population. Much easier to pick up than anything else."_

"Coming from yourself, the fountain of knowledge and worldliness. How many languages can a child know at such a tender age?"

_"Do you really want to know that?"_

"…"

_"… Don't answer that."_

"Now I'm almost curious. You sound pretty pure-blooded American to me."

_"My mom would be rolling in her grave."_

"Oh, did she finally get around to dying?"

_"Not yet."_

"Pity."

_"Fuck off. Just because your mother is a bitch doesn't mean everyone's is."_

"So yours isn't?"

_"I didn't say that."_

"Clearly. I wouldn't think a tender, loving mother would be so cruel as to leave her child to walk home from school through a dangerous neighbourhood. It's pathetic that you have to rely upon a stranger in a far flung state to provide a false shield against teenage thugs."

_"You're hardly a stranger at this point. What's it been, half a dozen calls by now?"_

"Nine."

_"Counting?"_

"Not at all. You're just impossible to ignore."

_"Whatever. Not a stranger though, even if I don't know your name. Actually, why don't I?"_

"Probably for the same reason I don't know yours."

_"I sincerely doubt that."_

"That's cryptic."

_"Maybe I'm a cryptic person."_

"You incidents of nearly shitting yourself a few weeks ago when your mother wasn't home –"

_"I wasn't shitting myself."_

"Kid. You were."

_"Don't call me kid."_

"Then give me a different name to call you."

_"…"_

"Waiting."

_"I know, asshole."_

"Oh, he speaks."

_"Alex."_

"Hm?"

_"My name's Alex."_

"…"

_"…"_

"Now, why don't I believe you?"

_"Maybe because you're an idiot."_

"No, I don't think so. Your sincerity rings untrue, _A_ -lex."

_"It's my name."_

"Is it?"

_"Yes."_

"For now?"

_"Fuck off."_

"You're the one who called me."

_"And, as always, I'm questioning why I subject myself to your company."_

"Because you're a hapless child wandering through a questionable neighbourhood. We've touched on this already, Alex."

_"Right."_

"Have you passed the corner stores yet?"

_"Not yet."_

"In sight?"

_"Not yet."_

"Hm. Why are you so slow today?"

_"I'm not slow."_

"You're slow. And late."

_"Barely."_

"You called a full ten minutes later than you usually do. That's late."

_"What, are you keeping tabs on me?"_

"It's called a call log, idiot."

_"I know, idiot."_

"What happened?"

_"…"_

"Kid, what –?"

_"Don't call me that."_

"Oh, is that upsetting? Well, kid, if I ask you a question –"

_"Okay! Shut the fuck up for a second. Jesus…"_

"Don't bring the good lord into this."

_"Like you give a crap about that kind of thing."_

"Granted. We can't all be devout Christians."

_"…"_

"Alex, what happened?"

_"Nothing… huge."_

"Don't lie."

_"I can't help it."_

"I can see that."

_"I don't want to… sometimes."_

"Are you a pathological liar?"

_"I… No, I'm not."_

"Hm. An unexpected truth."

_"What are you, an interrogation squad?"_

"Why? Had a bit of experience with that sort, have you? And stop dodging the question."

_"I'm not dodging –"_

"Alex. What happened?"

_"It was just… an altercation."_

"Big words for a small child."

_"You know what? You can really fuck off this time. I don't need to tell you this."_

"Was it street thugs?"

_"… No."_

"Did you know who it was?"

_"I… yes."_

"By name or by face?"

_"This really is an interrogation, isn't it?"_

"How can you be protected if you don't know the facts?"

_"Are you protecting me now?"_

"Isn't that why you call me on your walk home?"

_"Not really."_

"Oh?"

_"Shut up."_

"Are you injured?"

_"Why would you immediately assume that?"_

"Are you?"

_"Only a little bit."_

"Define 'a little bit'."

_"Why does it matter? What could you even do about it?"_

"Talk sense into you at the very least."

_"What, tell me to go to a hospital?"_

"Only if you were able to do so."

_"…"_

"What?"

_"You're not like most people, are you?"_

"What do you mean?"

_"Most people wouldn't immediately be cautious of a place like a hospital."_

"Cautiousness and financial awareness are one and the same."

_"True."_

"Is it bad enough that you need a doctor?"

_"I… I don't think so."_

"Stitches?"

_"Maybe. I can't tell if it's deep enough."_

"Bandages? Gauze?"

_"I'll stop at the corner shops."_

"Convenient."

_"That's why they call it a convenience store."_

"Wit in the face of injury? Alex, I'm impressed."

_"It's far from being the worst I've had. I –"_

"…"

_"Nothing."_

"Naturally."

_"I'm under no obligation to be open and honest with you, you know."_

"No one ever is. And very few people actually are."

_"That's cynical of you."_

"Do you disagree?"

_"Not in the least."_

"…"

_"…"_

"Are you losing blood?"

_"What?"_

"Your injury."

_"I… maybe. Yeah, I – why? How do you -?"_

"You sound like you're passing out."

_"I'm… I'm not."_

"That wasn't reassuring in the least."

_"Were you… looking for reassurance?"_

"How far are you from the corner stores?"

_"About five steps."_

"Five steps? Can you crawl there?"

_"Crawl?"_

"I assume you've become intimate with the sidewalk by this point."

_"Your… your lack of faith in me is… heart-warming."_

"Your words are slurring. Get up and move before you pass out completely."

_"I'm hanging up now."_

"That's not a good idea."

_"No, I am. I need to go."_

"Alex –"

" _BEEP-BEEP-BEEP_."

* * *

There were few things Andrew found truly interesting. Few enough that he could count them on one hand. On one finger, most days.

Just when those increasingly frequent phone calls had taken up residence on one of his fingers he didn't know, but they had. The phone calls with a kid who called himself Alex.

A kid who was snide and sarcastic, sharp and ironic, in the moments when he wasn't strung as tightly as a bowstring.

A kid in a questionable neighbourhood who didn't think, and act, and speak in the way that Andrew knew of the neighbourhood kids.

A kid with a tangled, shrouded history, a mother almost as concerning as Tilda had been, and a habit of lying and diverting to hide any ounce of truth that might slip forth.

Alex, a kid who felt the need to keep his truths and his real name hidden even from a sort-of stranger he'd stumbled across with a misplaced number. A kid who might be bleeding out on the curb of a dirty roadside for all Andrew knew.

Andrew wasn't worried. Not really. It had been so long since he had been that he almost wasn't sure what such a feeling resembled anymore, but he knew he wasn't worried. Yet. Trudging up the road to Nicky's house – to what sometimes even felt ominously like his own – Andrew tucked his phone into his pocket and chewed over the issue of the boy who'd somehow taken up residence in his life with little more than a touch of a button.

Andrew wasn't worried, and he wouldn't encourage himself to be either. It was better to focus upon what could be done, what could be known, and draw a knife when there was an objectionable throat to press it against. With nothing but a dropped phone call to go on, Andrew couldn't even do that, so he didn't acknowledge the open door of tentative concern as he shouldered his way into Nicky's house.

Tomorrow, though. When the call came – for it would come, would surely come – Andrew would ask his questions and squeeze Alex for answers. There was little he liked less than being ignorant and being deliberately kept in the dark was one of them. When there was little enough of worth and consideration to life, Andrew would be damned if he didn't expend just a little effort in holding fast to anything that bore even a shadow of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm such a massive sucker for protective!Andrew in whatever hard-love form it comes. Hope you liked it! I'd love to hear your thoughts on the story so far if you have a second to leave a comment. Thanks <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: this chapter contains mentions of and implied domestic violence and violence against animals. While it's not explicit by any means, it might be a bit triggering for some people.

A day passed. Then another.

Two days could feel like a long, long time.

* * *

"Did you die?"

_"What?"_

"…"

_"Clearly not."_

"Then a miracle has occurred."

_"A miracle? That's very dramatic of you. And no, not really. My mom is really good at stitching."_

"That's not as reassuring as you likely intend it to be."

_"Did you want reassurance?"_

"…"

_"Hello?"_

"Your consistency when it comes to maintaining a schedule needs to be addressed."

_"What?"_

"Call on time tomorrow."

_"Yeah. Okay."_

* * *

Andrew wasn't one for company. Not for making nice, for pleasantries, for dancing to the tune of those around him. When Nicky tried so hard, painting a smile on his face and asking him how his day was, there was no purpose in answering as he was expected to. No point in replying with his own smile and dishing out the same pleasantries.

"How was your day?"

"Good, thank you. How was yours?"

"Good, good. You know how it is. Just another day!"

"Oh, don't I know it!"

Andrew wouldn't do that. He wasn't even sure he could. Aaron did. Could. Was getting better at it. But not Andrew. If he'd needed any confirmation of their differences beyond what was already blatantly obvious, it was that.

Aaron still got into fights, but not like Andrew. Certainly not as much as Andrew.

Aaron was quiet, preferred to keep to himself, but he was comfortable with Nicky. He was _becoming_ comfortable. He was a part of 'the family', something that Andrew wasn't and never would be. Not in the same way because he couldn't be. He didn't want to be.

Andrew didn't care for things like blood ties. He didn't pander to the posturing and superficialities in the school yard. When a conversation arose that wasn't worth his time, there was little point in contributing to it. Little point in setting a precedent.

Even so, when his phone rang, Andrew always picked up.

* * *

"Are you dying today?"

_"Are you going to start every phone call this way now?'_

"Have you got an alternative?"

_"A simple hello would suffice."_

"That's a waste of air."

_"You talk enough outside of that. What's another word?"_

"When you don't care to spare it, a lot."

_"Do you count them?"_

"What?"

_"Words."_

"…"

_"I'm more of a numbers person. They're easier. Simpler."_

"Mathematics is a theoretical waste of time."

_"Theoretically wasteful or a waste in the form of theorising?"_

"Both."

_"You don't like maths. Why not?"_

"Why do you?"

_"Because it's easy, I guess."_

"I knew you were young."

_"What?"_

"You haven't faced high school maths yet."

_"I have, actually."_

"No, you haven't. Too young."

_"I'm older than you seem to think I am. And besides, I had a teacher. She accelerated me."_

"Oh, Alex. What a gifted pupil."

_"Shut up."_

"Shall we see you on television? A proud representative of the AMC?"

_"The… what?"_

"Clearly not."

_"What is that?"_

"…"

_"The AMC. What is that?"_

"It's a competition. For fools like you."

_"For people who do math?"_

"…"

_"Why would they show it on TV?"_

"Why not?"

_"Who would watch that?"_

"My thoughts exactly."

_"That just sounds…"_

"Not interested, I take it?"

_"My mom would kill me before agreeing to that."_

"It doesn't cost you as far as I'm aware."

_"It's not a matter of the cost. It's…"_

"..."

_"Other things."_

"Very cryptic."

_"Mm."_

"You're not able to show your face on television?"

_"…"_

"Alex the Enigma… What secrets do you hide? And more importantly, why?"

_"..."_

"…"

_"If you don't like math then what do you enjoy?"_

"At school?"

_"Mm."_

"Nothing."

_"Why am I not surprised?"_

Monday went like this. Then Tuesday. Then Wednesday and thereafter. Andrew wasn't one for needless pleasantries and frivolous obligations, but –

But.

_"… just won't understand. She doesn't look after it so why does she even have it?"_

"This doesn't concern you."

_"It does, actually."_

"How so?"

_"Because it barks."_

"So?"

"I can hear it through the wall."

"So throw something at the wall."

_"And risk losing the bond on this place? Fuck no. Mum would kill me. Besides, it's just fucking annoying, that's all."_

"Not a dog person?"

_"Why would I be?"_

"Cat?"

_"… why would I be?"_

"Children like fluffy things."

_"Does that mean you like them?"_

"You're walking in thin ice."

_"Am I?"_

"Don't tempt fate."

_"You're calling yourself fate now? Should I save you as that in my phone?"_

"…"

_"What? Are you pissed that I'd say that? Are you -? Oh, shut up."_

"What?"

_"Can't you hear it? The dog next door?"_

"No."

_"It's so annoying."_

"Very small things appear to irk you."

_"Not usually, but this is just – it's just the pitch that's annoying."_

"Earplugs."

_"I don't have any."_

"A pillow."

_"Doesn't work. I've tried."_

"Then throw your fucking shoe at the wall. We've been over this."

_"I - THUD."_

"Was that it?"

_"…"_

"You actually threw your shoe? How hard did you fucking throw it? I heard it from here."

_"There's a mark on the wall."_

"What?"

_"My mom is going to kill me if she sees it."_

"So?"

_"So, I don't have a death wish like you seem to."_

"…"

_"At least the dog shut up."_

"Go and get rid of it."

_"What?"_

"The dog. If it's annoying you, go next door and get rid of it."

_"I'm not going to do that."_

"Squeamish?"

_"No. Suspicious."_

"You're far too cautious. Live a little."

_"By killing the neighbour's dog?"_

"I didn't say kill it."

_"You insinuated."_

"I didn't. That's simply what you heard."

_"You're twisting your own words."_

"It's a skill."

_"I… Okay, so it wasn't the shoe."_

"What?"

_"The girl's home. That's why the dog shut up."_

"So go and talk to her. Tell her to do something about it."

_"No."_

"Why?"

_"Because…"_

"…"

_"She's got it bad enough already."_

"…"

_"Why do I even care?"_

"That's a very good question."

* * *

Andrew didn't know the boy. He didn't care for him. Not really.

But.

* * *

"You're upset."

_"No."_

"It wasn't a question."

_"I'm not upset. I'm…"_

"…"

_"Thinking."_

"Profound. And unlikely."

_"Why?"_

"You rarely seem to think."

_"What, so you can hear me thinking now?"_

"Mm."

_"A new skill? Or have you had it for a while?"_

"You're dodging the question."

_"I thought you said you didn't ask a question."_

"…"

_"It's nothing."_

"Clearly it's not."

_"No, it's… I…"_

"What?"

_"That dog I mentioned last week?"_

"…"

_"I think it's…"_

"…"

_"I mean, I haven't heard it in days."_

"So it learned to shut up."

_"No. It didn't."_

"…"

_"I… and I…"_

"What?"

_"I haven't heard the girl in days either. I know she didn't leave either."_

"…"

_"…"_

"Is she dead?"

_"I don't know."_

"Why would you suspect she was?"

_"…"_

"Did you kill her?"

_"What? No. I didn't hate her dog that much."_

"Then why?"

_"I…"_

"…"

_"There was a fight. With her boyfriend. I heard it through the wall."_

"Not the first?"

_"No."_

"Regular?"

_"Very. It's that kind of neighbourhood."_

"Hm."

_"It was loud enough to hear."_

"Is he violent?"

_"Mm."_

"So move."

_"No."_

"That's stupid."

_"Mom didn't hear it. There's no reason to move."_

"That's the stupidest excuse I've ever heard."

_"He hasn't been violent to me."_

"Yet."

_"He hasn't."_

"Yet."

_"…"_

"…"

_"What should I do?"_

"Why're you asking me?'

_"I don't know. Ideas?"_

"You're looking in the wrong direction for that."

_"I…"_

"Don't do anything. Move apartments if you can. Kill your neighbour if you can't."

_"That's not a solution."_

"It is if he killed someone. He could do it again."

_"Could doesn't mean will."_

"Has the capacity to."

_"So? I don't even know for certain if she's dead."_

"So?"

_"So… I don't know why I care."_

"Neither do I."

* * *

Andrew didn't care for anyone. Not anymore, and it was felt with such pervasive, bone-deep force that he wasn't sure if he ever had. He made promises. He repaid debts. Nicky stood for him, so he stood in return. Aaron acknowledged him against what these days was clearly his better judgement, so Andrew did in kind. It might not have mattered – shouldn't have mattered perhaps – but it did.

Outside of Nicky and Aaron. Outside of two single people that were all who remained after he'd slammed the door shut on the only person he'd ever let himself feel something for. Outside of just two –

But.

But he still picked up his phone. Sometimes, Andrew found himself struggle to let it go.


	6. Chapter 6

"His name's Erik."

Aaron was shocked. Horrified, even. Andrew could see it; there was little evidence but the slight widening of his eyes, the faintest paling of his cheeks, and the silence that was nothing if not characteristic of him, but Andrew noticed it. He could see that, despite Nicky's smile, he noticed it too.

That smile grew increasingly strained as Nicky struggled to maintain it.

There wasn't much to be said after that. Not by Aaron and certainly not by Andrew. But it was truly ironic. Truly marvellous, even, in a twisted sort of way. Some part of Andrew that didn't care for Aaron's opinion but would admit to mild curiosity wondered what his brother would say if he were to speak so revealingly as Nicky.

Not that it mattered. It would never matter, would never change anything. Aaron could hate him, could be as repelled as he appeared to be by Nicky, but it wouldn't change their circumstances. Of that Andrew was sure.

He didn't care, but a self-deprecating part of him was snidely amused when his knuckles became just a little more grazed that day than they usually were.

* * *

_"Are you in a bad mood?"_

"What?"

_"You seem pissed off."_

"No I don't."

_"Uh, yeah, you do."_

"Are you an expert in feelings now?"

_"Okay, yeah, if you're going to be even more of an arse than usual then I'm going to hang up."_

"…"

_"…"_

"You're still here."

_"Did you want me to leave?"_

"…"

_"…"_

"That's not a reply."

_"I don't know, silence can be a pretty loud reply."_

"Shut the fuck up, _Alex._ "

_"If you want me to shut up then I'll just leave. I'm pretty okay with that."_

"…"

_"Do you want to talk?"_

"No."

_"O-kay… Do you want me to talk?"_

"…"

_"Um, okay. Talking, talking…"_

"Don't push yourself unduly. You likely don't know how to speak of anything of real importance."

_"Okay, asshole. I'm crossing the road right now. There's a man sitting on the curb on the corner – he's not dangerous, you can tell –"_

"You can."

_"Is that a question? Of course you can. You pick up these things."_

"Of course you would."

_"You don't believe me? You really can tell. He's dressed too nicely. He looks like a mess, but his shoes are polished. His hair's still got a bit of oil in it –"_

"Charming."

_"- and his jacket's tailored. If I had to make a guess, I'd say he spent the weekend at someone's place, didn't have to work today, and didn't feel the need to leave before mid-afternoon. Doesn't look happy, though, but not angry, so if I was going to make an educated guess…"_

* * *

Nicky was being annoying. More demanding than usual, starved for attention. He was missing his boyfriend particularly acutely, or so Andrew assumed.

Aaron was in a foul mood. He barely spoke and when he did it was in a grumble. Andrew didn't care - he rarely spoke to him anyway - but it was setting Nicky even further on edge and that was a problem. Nicky's energy vibrated through the house and made it feel too small. When that energy took a sorry turn, the walls shook with it and practically vibrated.

And Andrew. Andrew was simply not having a week to remember fondly in the least. A bad week atop a bad seventeen years and counting. Bad people. Bad humour. Too many sidelong glances and mutters slurs that didn't bother him but filtered into his ears nonetheless, tickling the parts that were better left alone.

Andrew was having a bad week, and little could be done to change that. But when his phone rung he still picked it up. He always would.

* * *

"Are you dead yet?"

_"Still in a bad mood?"_

"…"

_"Hellllllllo?"_

"If you're going to talk like an imbecile then I'm going to hang up."

_"Would you?"_

"Instantly."

_"Then why didn't you? For that matter, why don't I?"_

"…"

_"I don't even know why I still call you."_

"Because you're a lonely sucker who craves attention."

_"No, I don't think that's it."_

"It is. Undoubtedly."

_"Yeah, you're definitely in a bad mood. I'm going to hang up if you're just going to be an asshole. I thought we were past that."_

"Don't."

_"What?"_

"…"

_"Do you not want me to hang up?"_

"I didn't say that."

_"Do you want me to talk again?"_

"I didn't say that either."

_"Yeah, well, you're not saying a whole lot of anything else either. It's kind of hard to get a read on you. I don't know why I care to, to be honest, but – no, you're right. I don't like walking home and being there by myself when the neighbour's hanging around."_

"The neighbour?"

_"Yes."_

"He's back?"

_"Got out of holding a week ago."_

"You didn't tell me that."

_"Yeah, well, what good would it do?"_

"You told me when it sounded like he killed his girlfriend."

_"I did, didn't I?"_

"Why?"

_"I don't know. I think I just wanted someone else to know."_

"Did you expect me to do something?"

_"No. Of course not. We're not the kind of people to do that kind of thing."_

"You're doing that thing again where you lump us together."

_"Yes."_

"Don't do that."

_"Why not? You haven't told me I'm wrong yet."_

"I haven't told you you're right either."

_"True. Am I?"_

"…"

_"You really are in a stubborn mood lately, huh."_

"It's not a mood."

_"Just your natural charm?"_

"Charm is for weaklings too cowardly to ask directly."

_"I think some people like it."_

"Would you be a person like that?"

_"Like what? That likes being charmed?"_

"…"

_"I've – I mean, I don't know. I've never thought about it."_

"…"

_"I don't think I'd even know what that looked like."_

"…"

_"Have you?"_

"…"

_"Hello? I'm really going to hang up this time."_

"My cousin has a boyfriend."

_"Oh."_

"…"

_"And?"_

"It's a curiosity that's playing on the mind of late."

_"Is that what's pissing you off?"_

"What?"

_"Your cousin. His boyfriend."_

"What? No."

_"It's not?"_

"No."

_"Really?"_

"If you keep asking the same, stupid question then I'm going to hang up the phone and snap it in half. Enjoy calling a dead number after that."

_"You wouldn't really. You're not the type of person to do that."_

"…"

_"Can I ask, then?"_

"You just did."

_"Ask in a way that you'd answer, I mean. Properly this time. You never really answer my questions. I'm just the one that talks."_

"Talk and yet say very little."

_"Coming from you?"_

"…"

_"Hello?"_

"Maybe next time. I don't… enjoy…"

_"Talking about yourself? Yeah, I figured. I'm not sure you know how."_

"I know how."

_"Do you? I don't."_

"Why are you telling me this?"

_"Maybe I'm trying to? Tell you, I mean."_

"An unexpected bout of honesty."

_"It's rare. Enjoy it while it lasts."_

"I enjoy nothing."

_"Yeah, yeah, I know. Will you, then?"_

"Will I what?"

_"Don't dodge the question. You never forget them when I ask you. You just ignore them."_

"You're making an awful lot of assumptions today."

_"Hard not to when that person I'm making those assumptions about doesn't directly confirm or deny any of them."_

"…"

_"…"_

"I won't tell you my sob story if that's what you're hoping for."

_"Good, because I don't want it."_

"Liar."

_"Okay, I don't want the sob part. Everyone has one and it just depends on how you word it who has the worst."_

"Poetic."

_"I try."_

"You should stop trying. It doesn't look good on you."

_"Is that a backhanded compliment? Are you saying I'm better when I'm my natural self?"_

"Shut up. What do you want?"

_"To ask?"_

"…"

_"You never told me your name."_

"My name."

_"Yeah."_

"That's what you want to ask?"

_"I have you saved in my phone as 'That Asshole'."_

"Hilarious."

_"I'm a natural born comedian."_

"No, you're not."

_"True."_

"… Fine."

_"What?"_

"Next time."

_"You… really?"_

"You're surprised."

_"That you agreed, yeah."_

"Why would you anticipate agreement when it was what you asked for?"

_"I just – nothing. Whatever."_

"Whatever?"

_"Whatever."_

"I'll have something from you in return."

_"That sounds dangerous."_

"Your name."

_"You already know my name."_

"No, I don't. You gave me a false name."

_"That you assume."_

"That I know."

_"Assume."_

"Know."

_"What if I don't have another name to give you?"_

"Then you won't have mine."

_"That's not fair. You already have mine."_

"Life isn't fair. And it's not a real name."

_"That you assume."_

"Stop going in circles. Are you really going to keep pretending?"

_"There's nothing to pretend."_

"…"

_"I… can't."_

"Can't?"

_"I can't… give you anything better than what I've got."_

"Then think of a different name. A better one."

_"A better name…"_

"Something that's more yours."

_"More mine?"_

"One that suits you more."

_"What about Alex doesn't suit me?"_

"Everything."

_"That's kind of insulting."_

"No, it's not. Not when you agree with me."

_"…"_

"We're in agreement?"

_"… Next time?"_

"Mm."

_"And you'll tell me your name?"_

"Mm."

_"And you'll properly accept what I tell you, so long as it's… part of mine?"_

"Part of yours."

_"As much as it can be."_

"Mm."

_"Is that a yes?"_

"Yes."

_"Okay. Then… yeah. Okay."_

"Until next time."

_"Yeah. Next time."_

* * *

"Who do you always speak to?"

Lowering his phone to his chest, Andrew turned only his eyes towards the bedroom door. He stared at where Nicky stood leaning between the doorframe him for a long moment, long enough that Nicky was fidgeting in place in the way he did when pauses stretched too long.

"No one important," he finally replied.

"Really?" Nicky cocked his head, resting it against the door frame. "You call them every afternoon."

"I don't."

"Alright, then they call you."

Pushing himself up to sitting, Andrew slipped his phone into his pocket. It seemed to tempt fate to have it on show, as though it was inviting a conversation when he hadn't asked for one. One that he never wanted to have with anyone, let alone his cousin who would cling to and nurture any speck of cordiality he was offered.

Nicky was like that. Like a starving bird craning its neck with mouth wide open to catch any morsel of good will sent his way. Andrew didn't have any to give in the first place. He wouldn't toss falsehoods in a feeble attempt to soothe Nicky's superficial desires.

Besides, the calls were his and his alone. It had been a bad week that hadn't ended on a high note but wasn't quite as low as it could have been. That much Andrew would let himself acknowledge.

"Did you have something of importance to say?" Andrew asked. "Or are you using up valuable silence for no reason?"

Nicky's smile, already barely more than a slip of a thing, faded. He didn't let himself shrivel completely however. He was getting better at that. A thickening of his skin. "I just thought it might have been someone interesting."

Andrew stared at him flatly.

"A girl, maybe."

 _A girl._ If Andrew was prone to such frivolity, he might have laughed.

"Or not." Scuffing the back of his head, Nicky shrugged. "Okay. That's fine. You don't have to answer. I guess I was just curious to see who was important enough to chew through your data every afternoon. We'll seriously have to look at getting unlimited between the three of us, I reckon."

Nicky trailed off as he turned from the room, talking more to himself that to Andrew. Which was a good thing because Andrew had nothing more to say to him. Nothing more to consider of someone who so loosely tossed around words like 'important'.

Good too because some misguided thoughtfulness had him pulling his phone from his pocket and flipping it open. His inbox was stuffed with call logs and only a scattering of them from Nicky.

Important? Not really, but Andrew would still pick up his phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for keeping up with the story! Again, I'd love to hear your thoughts. It really does make my day xx


	7. Chapter 7

_RING - RING_

_RING - RING_

_RING - RING_

_"The person you are trying to call is unavailable. Please leave a short message after the tone."_

_BEEP_

_"You didn't pick up? Even when you always do? Funny, I didn't see you as the sort of person to get spooked by a deal. If you didn't want to tell me your name so badly then that's fine. I didn't want to tell you mine either, so… whatever. I'll call you tomorrow, I guess. Maybe."_

_BEEP – BEEP - BEEP_

* * *

Andrew had never pulled his punches. Not when he didn't need to, and there were precious few occasions where such need for restraint arose.

Outside of Eden's Twilight, the lamplight bright but distant and the shadows of midnight long, there was certainly no need. Not when Andrew's weren't even the first fists to fly.

He saw Nicky's bloody nose. He saw the raised arm, the swing as it began to fall. Aaron was firmly at his back – pushed away, further away, out of the line of fire – and Andrew flew into action.

Cold, efficient, but despite the darkness he saw red. A cheek crumpled beneath his fist. A nose flattened before his elbow. A head cracked on the hard cement, a body tumbled down the gutter, and the heaving breath as a stomach caved in was followed by a cry as Andrew snapped the bastards chin skyward.

He fought because that was what he did.

He fought because someone had hit Nicky.

He fought because someone had touched – had hurt – one of his and they would reap the consequences of their actions.

Andrew knew he was struck in return. He knew he would have bruises, possibly a cracked rib or two, but that didn't matter. He swung and turned, lashed out and twisted, striking and pummelling to the ground to eradicate the threat that was a string of strangers on the sidewalk. Better to erase the enemy entirely than risk them ever showing their faces again.

It was only as arms grappled around him, too many arms for one person, and heaved him away that he stopped. Reluctantly, but he stopped. Shouts he'd ignored seeped into his ears, skewed as though heard through water and thick with words that didn't make sense. That would never make sense because what they meant? It wasn't relevant to the moment. Not to what Andrew had been forced to do.

"Stop! Andrew, stop!"

"Jesus, what the fuck?"

"Are they okay? Oh my god, are they fucking dead?"

"Are you crazy? Andrew, calm the fuck down!"

Andrew's knuckles burned. His fists trembled with the urge to continue, to finish what he'd started. The arms wrapped around him were tight but not unbreakably so. It wouldn't be an insurmountable challenge to overcome them. Andrew could, would, because Nicky was – Nicky wouldn't –

"Jesus Christ, Andrew, are you okay?"

Lights flashed. Blue and red lights, breaking up the lamplit street and piercing the darkness. A wail of a siren that stopped as those lights continued to spin and beam with glaring affront. Andrew dragged his gaze from the bodies on the ground – bodies, not people, for creatures that touched what was his hadn't the right to be considered anything more than that – and met Nicky's gaze. Then Aaron's.

Nicky, bloodied and wide-eyed, a handful of steps away and looking like he wanted to come closer.

Aaron, pale with hunched shoulders, pressed against the wall of Eden's where he should be with his gaze swinging between Andrew and the bodies.

People. Lights. Pigs in uniforms and night-goers in sequins, fitted clothes, and bared skin more suited to a Saturday than a weeknight. Andrew saw it all, heard the mania and mayhem spewed through words rather than actions, and finally wrapped the boiling heat flushing through him in a smothering blanket, tucked away for later use.

He'd done what he'd meant to do. The only thing he could do. Nicky was safe, the bodies were sidelined, and that was enough. Whatever happened next…

Andrew didn't deal with regrets, would never regret throwing a punch when it was needed, and he'd take what was coming to him. Regardless of the consequences, he would do it again in a heartbeat.

* * *

_RING-RING_

_RING-RING_

_RING-RING_

_"The person you are trying to call is unavailable. Please leave a short message after the tone."_

_BEEP_

_"… Hello?"_


	8. Chapter 8

_RING-RING_

_RING-RING_

_RING-RING_

_"The person you are trying to call is unavailable. Please leave a short message after the tone."_

_BEEP_

_"…."_

_BEEP-BEEP-BEEP_

* * *

"This is a serious situation, kid. Really serious."

Pigs were so high and mighty. Why did they think that when they spoke in that voice – deep and gravely, with that particular purse of lips and lock of jaw – that they immediately gained power and superiority? Andrew would never know.

"You could at least bother to reply."

Andrew gazed down at his knuckles. Reddened with dried blood, though his own or someone else's he didn't know. He didn't really care. So long as it wasn't Aaron's, wasn't Nicky's, it didn't matter. He picked at a fleck of it with his thumb nail, shedding the scrap to the floor.

"If you don't explain yourself, give some sort of reasoning, we'll have to assume the worst."

Wouldn't they anyway?

"You'll face some serious consequences."

Of course he would. There were always fools who bulldozed with accusations in the wrong direction.

"Not a one escaped without extensive damage by the looks of things. Might even be permanent. You could have killed one of them, kid. And you know what that means?"

Of course Andrew knew, but he doubted admitting as much would stave off the pig's explanation.

"Means you'll likely be facing time."

Ah, yes. 'Time'. As though it was the worst possible consequence. As though 'facing time' was worse than Nicky's face beaten to a pulp or Aaron's body peppered with bruises, his face deadened by drugs that weren't his own. There were worse things than 'time', but Andrew didn't bother telling the pig that. There was no point in explaining. Few people listened anyway. Few people bothered to try.

Regardless, Andrew wished they'd get on with it. He'd been there far too long already. The pig spoke more, a pompous drone with lips even more puckered, but when Andrew raised his gaze from his knuckles it was to the clock high on the wall. The clock that nudged with single-minded persistence into the afternoon.

Andrew never wanted anything in particular, but he wouldn't say no to having his phone back. Promises were made to be kept, after all.

* * *

_RING-RING_

_RING-RING_

_RING-RING_

_"The person you are trying to call is unavailable. Please leave a short message after the tone."_

_BEEP_

_"You know… Whatever."_

* * *

It was hilarious, really. Absolutely hilarious.

Andrew wasn't quite sure what exactly, but the moment was ear-splitting in its hilarity. Horribly, painfully, disgustingly funny. Within an hour of taking the first pill, he felt the best he'd ever been.

And the worst. The absolute best and the utter worst, and it just kept getting better and worse with every pill. Which was kind of hilarious.

"Stop smiling."

That was Aaron, making demands. Not for the first time, nor the third, and that only in just the first three days. It was stupid, because Aaron so rarely spoke to him. Andrew supposed it could be seen as personal development.

By the end of a week, the demands were just funny.

"Andrew, what…? Please, you're acting…"

That was Nicky. His nose was better, which was good. Not that Andrew cared, but a part of him accepted that Nicky looked marginally better without a crumpled nose and blood smearing his upper lip. Marginally only because it was replaced by Sad. A lip quivering, shoulder-tensing version of Sad.

That was just a little bit funny too. Even funnier because when Andrew laughed Nicky flinched as though struck. It wasn't a good thing necessarily – at all, not at all – but it was funny. Hilarious.

Goddamn fucking hilarious.

They said that the euphoria would dampen with tolerance. That the first few months would be the worst. They said that he would be better for it, more approachable, more manageable. That his 'bottled rage and irrepressible violence' would be stoppered enough that he would be able to control it.

They didn't understand. Andrew had never been without control. It was simply that his control didn't quite align with that of the doctors and pigs and street toughs and bouncers at Eden's and…

And hence the drugs. The goddamn drugs that made it all so fucking hilarious. Easing? Smoothing out? A tolerance? Ha. If only they knew. Andrew had more pumping through his system than he cared to consider on a quantitative level. Normalising wasn't a possibility for him anymore. The drugs? The little white pills in their little child-proofed bottle?

Wonderful. Hilarious. Absolutely fucking disgusting.

But it would serve its purpose. The brightness that Andrew hated the second it took hold of him, the jittering, quivering energy pulsing through him, the swirling in his brain that drew forth questions and answers and more thoughts than he'd ever considered clogging the labyrinthine space between his ears? It was a unique brand of torture, but it would be enough for him to stay out. Enough that he could keep his promise to Aaron even if Aaron didn't want the promise kept. Even if Aaron didn't know what it truly meant.

And wasn't that just fucking hilarious?

* * *

_RING-RING_

_RING-RING_

_RING-RING_

_"The person you are trying to call is unavailable. Please leave a –"_

_BEEP_

_RING-RING_

_RING-RING_

_RING-RING_

_RING-RING_

_RING-RING_

_RING-RING_

_"The person you are trying to call is –"_

_BEEP_

_RING-RING_

_RING-RING_

_RING-RING_

_RING-RING_

_RING-RING_

_RING-RING_

_"The person you are trying to call is unavailable. Please leave a short message after the tone."_

_BEEP._

_"… Bye."_


	9. Chapter 9

Andrew couldn't stop smiling.

Staring own at his phone, the small screen fading before flaring brightly as he clicked it back to life, he smiled. His leg bounced. His finger tapped. He gnawed his lip hard enough that he could feel the rawness of shredded skin beneath, could taste the metallic tang of blood.

And he smiled.

"Once more," he muttered to himself, lifting the phone to his ear as he clicked on the voicemail icon for what could have been the thousandth time. "Just once."

"… _Bye. BEEP."_

His smile grew. "Okay, maybe just once more."

"… _Bye. BEEP."_

"And again, just for good luck."

"… _Bye. BEEP."_

"… _Bye. BEEP."_

"… _Bye. BEEP."_

"… _Bye. BEEP."_

Someone snorted. Someone laughed. A loud laugh that bounced off the walls. A laugh with an edge to it that grated upon his ears. Andrew knew it was his own but the hatred, the disgust, that welled within him at the acknowledgement wasn't enough to quell the bubbling amusement that burst forth.

It was supposed to smooth out, right? Supposed to settle. Supposed to ease into a form of tolerance. That was what they'd said.

"… _Bye. BEEP."_

So why was everything still so goddamn funny?

"Andrew?"

Hauling his gaze from the blank wall, the _BEEP-BEEP_ still muttering in his ear, Andrew flashed Nicky a bright smile. He laughed once more as Nicky hunched further upon himself at the sight of it.

"Hey, Nicky. I thought I told you never to come into my room."

"I'm not in your room," Nicky said, feet shuffling on the threshold.

"True, true. But you're dangerously close. Don't push your luck."

"What's so funny?"

"Hm?" Andrew glanced towards him from where he'd been staring once more at the phone cradled in his lap.

Nicky swallowed audibly. He licked his lips. When had he regressed to being so wavering? So easily disconcerted? A shame. Andrew thought he'd been getting better with that for the last little while.

"Hm…" Tapping the phone with his thumb, Andrew lowered his gaze once more. He smiled down at the screen, at the contact number tagged to the block letters RABBIT. With an expansive shrug, Andrew lurched to his feet. He snorted as Nicky took a jerking step backwards before catching himself.

"Life? Love? Abandonment?" Andrew gave another shrug. "Who knows?"

Nicky certainly didn't. He didn't say anything as Andrew strolled towards him, through the door, past him. Andrew didn't look back at his cousin as he slipped down the stairs, a tuneless hum he knew was his own ringing discordantly in his ears.

He slipped his phone into his back pocket, though. He didn't expect it to ring – rabbits that fled were nigh impossible to recuperate – but he held onto it nonetheless. Andrew always kept his promises, whether anyone else did too or not.


	10. Chapter 10

There was nothing quite so satisfying as the hum of a powerful engine. The thrum of a motor and gears flowing seamlessly in endless resolutions. The smooth leather of a steering wheel and the fluid rotation as he eased around screeching turns that should have rolled the car.

Andrew didn't have a fondness for anything, but he let himself be satisfied with a good car. The GS was one such good car. The rental, however, was not.

Functional was an exaggeration. It barely managed sixty on the freeway without a grumble and a disgruntled sigh. Not that Andrew cared. He pushed the piece of crap car because it would only be lasting a handful of miles further before he passed it back to its long-suffering owner.

"Would it kill you to slow down a little?"

Kevin wasn't enjoying himself, however. He'd never had much of a taste for cars. Never one for driving fast either, even if 'fast' was such a painful exaggeration it was laughable.

Andrew didn't laugh. He didn't reply to Kevin's disgruntlement either. Kevin was coming along for the ride because he always came, and Andrew always drove. There was no other possible option between the two of them.

When Andrew's phone rang, he didn't slow. "Don't, Andrew," Kevin said as Andrew reached for it. Andrew didn't spare him a glance as he flipped it open. Few enough people called him that he shouldn't have been surprised by the name a flicking glance showed him on the screen.

Except a part of him was. He'd not expected _that_ name.

Andrew didn't speak as he held the phone up to his ear. Unexpectedly, because it was Neil and Neil had a seemingly compulsive urge to speak at times. Yet no voice echoed from the other end of the line. For a long, long moment, the miles swallowed by the tired wheels of the rental, Andrew listened to the muted sound of breathing.

When moments reached a minute, he gave a pointed nudge. "Neil."

The breaths caught. Paused. Suspended for a beat before releasing in a sigh. "Come and get me from the stadium."

The car swung to the side of the rode. A wild, rocking swing that had Kevin cursing and clutching at the door handle. Andrew slammed on the breaks and plumes of dust swirled up on either side of the car, billowing across the closed windows. With fingers so tight they all but fractured, he snapped his phone shut.

Oh.

"Fuck, Andrew," Kevin said, swinging towards him so fast he must have given himself whiplash. "Are you seriously trying to kill us this time?"

Andrew didn't look at him. He stared down at his phone, regarding the simple black lines of its surface. It was so old, scarred and chipped in some parts, that it was almost faded to grey. As grey as Neil's phone.

Neil. Neil and the phone he'd given to the man who reminded him so much as a flighty rabbit from years before. Neil and a phone he hadn't wanted but he'd needed so that Andrew could keep a different promise to a different person.

Or the same person.

Oh.

He hadn't suspected. The feeling was familiar – recognisable, in the voice and the words and the way he spoke – but only familiar. Not the same. Yet that similarity was a part of the reason Andrew couldn't help but seek the outdated phone to fold into Neil's hand with the silent demand that he use it. That he call Andrew when he needed to.

A different promise to a different person. How ironic that there wasn't really any difference at all.

Kevin was talking. Still talking. Or cursing, mostly, because there was little else that Kevin resorted too when he was scared. Cursing and drinking or, in particularly insufferable moments, resorting to silent glares and tight-lipped petulance. Andrew would have preferred the petulance and the silence. Anything but the barely perceivable intrusion into the buzz of something very like stupefaction in his ear.

Impossible. Except not impossible. Just very, very improbable.

The sound of Neil's voice still echoed in an endless loop. Unheard of as 'Neil' but witnessed many a time years before. It should have changed things, maybe. Should have rewired Andrew's brain, flipped it on its head and given it a solid shake. Did this change things? Should it? _Would_ it?

No, was the short answer. And the long was exactly the same.

"Andrew," Kevin said, a little louder this time. "What the fuck?"

Andrew spared him a glance. A flick of a glance only, with a longer stare reserved for his phone as he dropped it back into the middle console. "We're going to pick up Neil," he said, explaining only in the vague hope that it might silence Kevin's questioning.

"Neil?" The frown in Kevin's voice was practically tangible as Andrew restarted the car and turned them back the way they'd come. "I assumed he was at the court, wasn't he?"

"Yes," Andrew said shortly.

"Oh." Kevin said nothing more. He was sensible enough these days that he wouldn't complain in such circumstances, even if it frustrated him.

The rental was no faster on the way back to the stadium than it had been on the freeway. Nevertheless, if Andrew pushed it a little harder than he had before, Kevin was sensible enough to hold his tongue in this instance too.

 _Two promises,_ Andrew thought, foot to the floor as they raced across smooth bitumen. _Would you ever guess, I wonder?_

It didn't matter. Andrew had failed once. He wouldn't do it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. If you have a second or two, I'd love to hear your thoughts! 💜


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